


No Need To Panic

by thatchoirperson



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 08:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15139592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatchoirperson/pseuds/thatchoirperson
Summary: I had an idea: I made a list of 8 of my favorite ships, then put my 8 favorite Panic! At The Disco songs on shuffle. Whichever song was assigned to each ship was the song I had to listen to while writing that one shot. This is the result.





	No Need To Panic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Dancing’s Not A Crime

The living room at their apartment was never set up how it was supposed to be. The couch, chairs, and coffee table were always pushed against the walls. It would drive any interior designer insane, but neither of them minded.  
It was 11:30 pm. Spot sat in the kitchen, sipping a beer.  
Race was in the living room dancing.  
Though Race was amazing at every type of dance imaginable, Spot loved how he always turned to contemporary ballet and tap when he did improv. He sat silently, watching. Smiling. Appreciating how Race’s legs went on forever, how a simple split was never flexible enough, even when he was just dancing for himself. It was clear he liked to show off his flexibility, too, returning to penchés and développés more commonly than anything else. And turns, too. Turns were his favorite.  
It was 11:45, now. Spot had started another beer.  
Race was still dancing.  
Just a typical Saturday night. And Spot loved it.  
When the song changed, Spot found himself standing, walking over. As Race rose onto relevé, Spot wrapped his arms around Race’s torso, turning him around, both of them giggling.  
Spot relished how his hands sat on Race’s waist as they danced. How perfectly they fit amongst the curves of his back. How Race pulled closer when Spot slid his hand up Race’s back to rest between his shoulder blades. How, even when Spot stood on his toes, Race still had to bend down to kiss him.  
God.  
Drunk in the moment, Spot’s heart quickened, and he closed his eyes, smiling against Race’s soft lips.  
To stay here, like this, forever…


End file.
